


This Means War

by rikujo (helphiddlestoned)



Series: 25 Days of Fic [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 25 Days of Fic, Brothers America & Canada (Hetalia), Day 3: Snow, Gen, I'm genuinely shocked I haven't failed yet, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helphiddlestoned/pseuds/rikujo
Summary: Because nothing says Christmas like your brother lobbing snow at you.





	This Means War

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 for 25 Days of Fic! No romantic pair today but I love writing the NA Bros because it's always good fun.  
> Hope you enjoy!

“Yo bro, you’ve got something on your face there.”

Matthew lifted his head with a curious hum. Freezing, stinging powder exploded in his face.

He went stumbling backwards as Alfred’s baying laughter echoed through the peaceful little corner of woods that housed his winter cabin—normally peaceful, anyway.

Spluttering and wiping snow from his face with gloved fingers, he frowned half-heartedly at his brother.

“You could have warned me.”

“Where would be the fun in that? Then you’d have ducked.” Al replied, grinning from ear to ear, and Matthew’s eyes narrowed a touch.

“Right. I guess you couldn’t win in a fair fight.” he said lightly. The smile slipped straight of Alfred’s face. Matthew returned to his previous task of collecting the logs stored in the shed – they definitely needed the fire on, doubly so now that he had a cold, wet face – but before he could heft them another snowball hit him smack in the back of the neck. “Al!”

“I could _so_ beat you in a snowball fight.” Alfred asserted, already rolling another snowball out of the powder. “Unless you’re too much of a wuss to join in, bro.”

Matthew sighed, but turned back to face him. “You want to challenge _me_ to something snow related?”

That was all the warning his brother should have needed, really, but Alfred was already puffing himself up importantly and the only way to shut him up now was probably to push him in a snowdrift.

“What you think I’m scared, Mattie?” He snorted smugly. “I could take you any day.”

Matthew just arched an eyebrow instead of replying before stepping away from the shed and gathering a good handful of snow himself, pressing it into a hefty snowball.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out.” he finally replied, shrugging. He refused to be ruffled.

Or he did until he had to duck another snowball anyway, diving to his right so that it sailed passed his ear instead while Alfred snickered opposite him. He wasted no time in hurling his snowball straight at Alfred’s nose when he found his footing, though, and the smack as it exploded across his glasses couldn’t have been more satisfying. Alfred squawked, flailing, but Matthew quickly began gathering more snow.

The key to winning a snowball fight was _not_ stopping to gloat.

By the time he’d gathered enough snow Al had unfortunately cleared his glasses and his next throw narrowly missed when his brother dodged. Alfred stuck out his tongue, jeering.

Advancing on him as he grabbed more snow, compacting it as quickly as possible while Al did the same, he managed to land another hit to Alfred’s shoulder—but he got a snowball to the stomach in return.

Groaning, he ended up stumbling in the deep snow and falling to his knees. It was hardly surprising when another handful of snow was mashed into his hair a second later. Alfred made the mistake of pausing to laugh while still standing dangerously close to him, though, and Matthew reached out to yank his ankles from under him. Alfred cried out, teetering, but remarkably didn’t fall flat on his face.

He went down to one knee though, allowing Matthew to shove an arm into the snow and send a wave of powder washing over his brother.

Snow sticking to his hair and cheeks, Alfred gave something akin to a war cry, digging his hands into the fresh powder and shovelling as much in Matthew’s direction as possible. Seeing no other option but to give as good as he got, Matthew started lobbing unpacked handfuls back at him in double time until the air around them resembled a blizzard.

It was only when Alfred snorted and descended into laughter, through splutters because of the snow in his mouth, that they both began to slow.

“Mattie, you look like a human windmill!”

“You’re the one impersonating a snow plough.” he retorted, but there was a smile plucking at his lips, and when Alfred flopped back into the churned up snow he folded down himself, sprawling flat on his back with a sigh of relief.

They both lay still for a second, trying to get their breath back, and he watched as Al wiggled his nose to try and dislodge a few melting snowflakes.

“Well, I think we can both agree I won.” Alfred piped up a minute later, beaming.

Without preamble, Matthew sat up and shoved his brother over, face first into the snow drift. Served him right really.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! You can also come and bother me at anglaisaph on tumblr ❤


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